


Gladiatorial Combat

by Devils_Official



Series: Askbox Fics [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Champion Shiro, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, technically, this sounds really bad but i promise you that it could be far worse than it actually is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2019-08-25 07:01:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16656436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devils_Official/pseuds/Devils_Official
Summary: Lotor decides to invest in a little “personal time” with the Champion. Things don’t go quite as planned.





	Gladiatorial Combat

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another askbox fic based on this ask: “Shiro's masters during his time as a gladiator offered him as a whore to rich clients (mostly Galra Commanders) and whoever was able to pay for his services. In ancient Rome rich people, especially rich women, had this kink for gladiators cause they were strong and masculine . So, guess who paid to have the Champion as whore for a whole night?Our little pretty prince, who goes into Shiro's room all confident he'll dominate the Champion, a mere human, and will dispose of him as he prefers....until our little pretty prince enters the room, see Shiro, all muscles and very very thicc, very very undressed and Lotor suddenly can't remember all his good top intentions, so he just jumps on Shiro and for once our Champion can get revenge on the Galra by fucking the living fuck out of their little pretty prince”

This was not the sort of thing Lotor usually did. Other Galra did, quite frequently, but he never had.

He wouldn’t be doing this now if his peak this cycle weren’t so intense. If the Champion didn’t intrigue him so much.

It was, perhaps, the most efficient way of dealing with the situation. Use the Champion for a night, get some relief, and then, when the Champion’s masters took him to another arena, forget about him. They wouldn’t stay all the way out here forever; there was little money in it, so far away from the center of the Empire. 

Lotor did not make it a habit to watch the matches in the arena. There was no honor in watching slaves fight for their lives, since their only other choice was usually the mining colonies. Die quickly of injury, or slowly of starvation; it ended the same either way. 

When the circuit took the Champion back to the center of the Empire, he would probably die. Through this point, he had only fought other prisoners, other slaves, and various mindless creatures. Whatever vicious thing the overseers thought would make for a good show. 

And yet the Galra could not allow someone who was not Galra to triumph for long, so the Champion must fight a full-blooded Galra, and he must lose. That was all there is to it. 

So...perhaps that was why Lotor was here. There would not be another chance to see the Champion up close, and he had the excuse of his peak, should anyone ask.

(They won’t; they know better.)

He could not help but admit that, even from afar, the Champion had an aesthetic appeal. Without scales or fur, it was easier to see the firm lines of his muscle, thick and bulging. If he were Galra and free, there was no doubt in Lotor’s mind that he would have had no shortage of suitors.

But he was not Galra and he was not free, and so he may be used by those with enough money to waste. 

The room they kept him in on these occasions was almost gaudy, with soft fabrics draped everywhere, and overstuffed pillows scattered about, and thick rugs lying across the floor. The room had to be nice; the clientele would raise a fuss if the Champion’s masters forced them to visit a slave’s cell for their pleasure.

Lotor didn’t care about that. He would rather be in his own rooms, but that wasn’t allowed, so he had to come here. No matter. The setting doesn’t matter so much, as long as the Champion is underneath him. 

It had been too long since Lotor fucked someone; he was too diminutive for other Galra to allow him the opportunity, and too Galra for non-Galra to want to get that close. 

That won’t be an issue with the Champion. He was human, and he was a slave.

The Champion reclined in the center of a huge mattress. There was not a stitch of clothing on him. Not his slave rags. Not even a scrap of fabric to preserve his modesty.

Then again, the point of this exercise was not modesty and, if the rumors were to be believed, he’d already been used by most of Zarkon’s High Command. 

He was all muscle, as if he were sculpted out of stone, unforgiving and firm. In the low light, his skin glistened, accentuating every curve and plane…

Lotor’s mind went directly to what it would be like to have this man, this Champion, hold him down and fuck him. That wasn’t his intent in coming here, but he was already so ready that his sheath only needed a firm touch before his cock came out, and the thought of it was…

“Are you just going to stare?” The Champion growled. “Or are you going to fuck me?”

Lotor could not ask this- this slave to fuck him. Such a thing would have him disgraced, more than he already was. He was only half-Galra, but that was Galra enough to not submit to…

And yet he wanted. 

Lotor undressed quickly. He’d only worn his flight suit here; armor was an unnecessary hinderance, and he wouldn’t need it. 

Then he stalked across the room, to where the Champion was splayed across the bed, downright pornographically, almost like he’d been made to cater specifically to Lotor’s tastes. 

Between his legs, his cock stood erect and  _ dripping _ , he was so hard. They had probably drugged him up with something before his matches today, and it wasn’t yet out of his system. Perhaps, with the help of the drug, he could keep up with Lotor. 

It didn’t matter; this wasn’t over until Lotor said it was. He certainly didn’t need him conscious. 

“How may I serve you?” The Champion sneered, the words right but the tone far too defiant. They certainly hadn’t broken his spirit. Not yet. It would almost be a shame if they ever did.

“Spread your legs,” Lotor ordered, as he began to crawl between them. He didn’t have to order; he could simply take. And yet he wanted to push, see how far…

The Champion looked up at him, considering something. 

And then, before Lotor knew what was happening, the Champion flipped them over, pushing Lotor’s face into the mattress and yanking his arm behind his back so that he couldn’t struggle without dislocating it. 

He’d rather not. 

Without a single touch, his cock had unsheathed, which was...highly unusual. 

“They shouldn’t have sent such a small and pretty thing,” the Champion growled. “Not if they didn’t want it to get hurt.”

Lotor inhaled sharply. He hoped the Champion thought it was fear, but it was definitely arousal. He had vowed to never let another Galra treat him like this, but this human… that was another matter entirely. 

And then the cold metal of the Champion’s prosthetic was pulling his hips up and back, positioning him so that he can just thrust right in.

It was a shock when he did. His cock was hot and thick and not at all tapered, and it felt like it was going to tear Lotor apart.

He  _ loved _ it. 

“ _ Fuck _ , you’re too big…” he panted.

The Champion responded by slamming his cock in harder, deeper. “That’s too bad. Take it, slut. Go on, spread your legs. Is this how you were going to fuck me?”

In point of fact, no, it wasn’t; Lotor had debated having the Champion ride him, which would put all those perfectly sculpted muscles on display. But the Champion didn’t need to know that. 

“I am going to fuck you so hard you’ll have to crawl out of here,” the Champion hissed, pulling Lotor’s hair and drawing a moan out of him. “You’ll feel me for  _ weeks _ , you’ll remember what it's like to get fucked within an inch of your life, and maybe you’ll  _ think twice before you use someone like this again _ .”

* * *

Shiro couldn’t think straight. Whatever they injected into him before matches was still thrumming through his veins, and it was either fight or fuck. Or this, which was almost a combination of both. 

The pretty half-breed squirmed and writhed under him, unable to even speak, just panting and crying -actually crying, with tears and everything -as he fucked him.

It was good. The other clients only wanted to fuck him, and he didn’t have a choice in the matter; they were all too big and too Galra for him to try and fight them.

But this half-breed… that was a different story.

He was made to be fucked. He fit just right around Shiro’s cock, hot and tight, and he made the prettiest sounds…

He’d gone limp at some point, but that didn’t matter. Shiro hardly ever came when the other clients fucked him -they only cared about their pleasure -so he was going to chase his pleasure now, with this golden opportunity face-down on the mattress.

Maybe the pretty half-breed would think twice before visiting again, which would almost be a shame; Shiro wouldn’t mind teaching him another lesson. 

He pounded the pretty half-breed so hard that the bed banged against the wall loudly, and Shiro had never felt more powerful than he did now.

The half-breed couldn’t do anything but rip the sheets and moan -out of pain, out of pleasure, Shiro didn’t care -and, after what seemed like far too short a time, Shiro came, the metal of his prosthetic digging into the half-breed’s hip.

Shiro pressed his face into the mattress harder, not to shut him up. Just because he could. 

Shiro pulled out. The awful energy in his veins was mostly gone, and maybe now he’d be able to sleep. If the nightmares didn’t keep him up. 

The half-breed didn’t move, just whined a little. 

Shiro hadn’t meant most of the things he’d said -honestly, he didn’t remember most of them -in the heat of the moment, and hopefully the half-breed was of a low enough rank that he wouldn’t report him or something. Have him punished, maybe? 

Finally, the half-breed flipped over, still breathing heavily, his eyes half-lidded. 

Shiro waited apprehensively for him to collect himself and leave; none of the other clients stayed more than a few minutes after. 

The half-breed started laughing breathlessly. “Are you waiting for me to leave? They didn’t tell you that I had paid for the whole night?”

“You- you’re going to stay?” He hadn’t expected that; he’d thought that no Galra, half-breed or not, would ever let a mere slave violate them in such a way. He hadn’t been thinking- oh god, they were going to- “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, please don’t-“

“I wasn’t planning to,” the half-breed said. “I’m not sure I’ve ever been fucked like that.” 

“So you’re not...angry?”

The half-breed laughed again. “Gods, no. It was just what I needed, to be perfectly honest. So I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Not a word,” Shiro said. “So… you paid for the whole night, but I, uh, I’m not sure I can…just yet.”

“Worked it out all out of your system, did you?” The half-breed sighed. “I can wait.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Shiro said. “You’re more my type than the other clients. It’s just…I can’t.”

“You made me come twice,” the half-breed said. “I’m not desperate.”

Shiro was a little impressed with himself for that, but he didn’t know what else to say. 

Finally, the half-breed spoke up again. “You know that they’re going to make you fight a Galra, when you return to Central Command, right? A high-ranking officer, probably. And that they’re going to kill you.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Shiro said with a sigh. He’d sort of accepted it, while also hoping for some kind of deus ex machina. An opportunity to escape. Something.

“I enjoyed this,” the half-breed said, “and I think you did, too. So...maybe, I could… arrange to have you stay here, out of the arena, and you wouldn’t have to...service anyone else. Unless you wanted to.”

“Can you even offer me something like that?” Shiro asked hoarsely. It sounded too good to be true, and it probably was, but what did he have to lose at this point? 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know who I was before you fucked me within an inch of my life?”

“No?” 

The half-breed laughed again, even harder. “This is my installation! This is my ship! Do they tell you nothing?”

“I haven’t known what’s going on since I got captured by the Galra in the first place,” Shiro muttered. 

“I am Prince Lotor,” the half-breed said, trying to stifle his laughter. 

“Prince?”

The prince waved a hand. “What matters is that if I decide, on some whim, that I’d rather keep you here, to service me, then your masters can’t deny me. So. You don’t have to make a decision now, but you should soon. Before I leave in the morning.” 

“I wasn’t captured alone,” Shiro said. “I have to-“

“You won’t have much chance of that in the arena. I can ask around, maybe, if you wanted.”

“You’d do that for me? I- I’m a slave, and you’re a prince.”

The prince sighed. “I remember a time before slavery was legal, and I think it’s a disgusting practice. You’d be my slave in name only, but it would ensure your safety, and it would give you an excuse to be around me. I have some resources, and I might be able to… But I won’t force you into this.”

“You came in here tonight with the intention of-“ Shiro couldn’t actually say it. 

The prince sighed. “Yes. I know. I would like to assure you that this isn’t the sort of thing I normally do. This is the first time I’ve done it, in fact. But I have no excuse, and if you’d rather I leave now, I will.”

“Can you even stand?” Shiro asked, half-amused.

“I doubt it.”

“Well… I guess you can stay then, and I’ll give you my decision in the morning. In the meantime…” He pounced on the prince, taller than he was, but more lightly built. “Maybe I could fuck you again?”

The prince looked up at him, his eyes dark and hungry. “I’d like that.” 


End file.
